


Intoxicated

by uchiharvno



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Mutual Pining, References to Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-01-02 11:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21160577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uchiharvno/pseuds/uchiharvno
Summary: Sasuke always catches Sakura.





	1. college girl drunk

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: this fic is heavily-inspired by the krista and becca ritchie novel addicted to you, just a head's up in case some of you have read the book and find some of the themes or scenes very familiar. this story tackles mental health which i understand could be a sensitive topic.
> 
> TW: alcoholism + mentions of drug use n a very brief mention of relations between a minor and an older guy. if these are themes you are not comfortable with, by all means, please do not read.

Sakura remembers waking up in a bed that isn't hers in the dorms of a university she doesn't even attend. She remembers wobbling as she maneuvered around empty bottles and cans that littered the floor like an obstacle course, all while she was haphazardly throwing on her little dress from the night before−she's practically won the olympics right then and there. She remembers slipping out of the door just as the pretty boy groaned into consciousness.

She doesn't, however, remember calling her best friend to pick her up. But she must have, because here was Sasuke Uchiha, stepping out of the backseat of the black Chrysler before the car has even stopped moving. He's angry, she could tell, but she's too far into her personal hell to care. "I have the worst fucking hangover right now," she grumbles. She's in no shape to take a scolding from him.

She pulls herself up from where she's been sitting on the front steps of the dorm building. She stumbles forward but she doesn't care because she knows that he will catch her. Sasuke always catches Sakura. He holds her tightly against him and supports her entire weight as they walk to the car.

It's not until they've begun driving away that she remembers something she's forgotten. Resting her heavy head on his shoulder, she reaches down and fingers her waist through her dress and feels nothing but smooth skin. "Sasuke-kun," she murmurs weakly. "I think I forgot my panties."

/

Sasuke is silent during the car ride. He's silent during the nauseating elevator ride, where she's stepped into his space and rested her forehead against his chest as he held her in place with his arms around her waist. On days like these, she hates being the rich girl who lives in the highest floor of the building. And she understands how snotty that notion is, how privileged, how selfish. She chuckles humorlessly and he doesn't bother asking what's so funny.

It's not until they're in the privacy of their penthouse suite that he breaks his silence.

Sasuke can be vicious when he wants to be and he's vicious right now. He holds her by the shoulders and bends down a little so that he's looking directly into her eyes and she's sure he's preaching about responsibility and sobriety. He's shouting in her face about how self-destructive she's being, about the dangers she's putting herself in by drinking herself into oblivion and jumping into bed with the first guy she sees. And he begs her to _stop, just stop_−

Sakura knows what he's saying only because she's heard the same speech a million times before, but she doesn't actually hear him right now. All she is aware of in this moment is the pounding in her head and how she feels like she's about to vomit but it's not coming up.

He must sense this, because he's gone before she could register the absence of his hands on her shoulders and she's got nothing left to steady her.

/

"Maybe _you _need to get laid," she says around a mouthful of bacon, once she's coherent enough. He just glares at her from where he's watching her devour grease and caffeine from the other side of the counter. "God knows you're just tearing me a new one because you're not getting any. Loosen _up_, Sasuke!"

"Did you even use protection?"

She silently chews her food and avoids meeting his eyes.

"Finish up, then take a shower. We're getting you tested."

"You're not my dad," she says, even though it's childish.

"Obviously," he scoffs. "Unlike your dad, I actually give a fuck about you."

His words catch them both off-guard and he winces while she sets her utensils down to her plate and pulls her hands to her lap where he doesn't see her fidget but know she's doing it anyway.

Kizashi Haruno is the CEO of a billion-dollar company and he's always made it clear that his daughter was the least of his priorities. If he's known that Sakura started drinking when she was thirteen, he didn't seem to care enough to stop her. If anything, he must have encouraged it by letting her take sips of expensive scotch whenever he caught her loitering by his office in their home, timidly begging for scraps of attention. The only father-daughter bonding time they ever shared.

"Look," he sighs. "I'm sorry. This is just... annoying." And she knows that's the closest thing he'll get to saying _I love you and I worry about you._

"I know. I'm sorry, too." Because he's her best friend and he's been putting up with her bullshit since they were children, and he deserves none of this.

He goes around the counter so that he's right in front of her. He cups her face in his hands and his deep, dark eyes plead with her. "Just please _try_, Sakura." And she wants to say that she _does _try. That every day she wakes up with a splitting headache she vows never to touch alcohol again, all until the poisonous liquid calls to her and every fiber in her body _needs _it. But it's too much to say, too hard to explain, so she just nods her head and promises. Even though she knows she won't keep it.

/

She's failing her classes.

But it's okay, she reminds herself, breathing in and breathing out. She's in university. She's an adult. Her father wouldn't have to know. He wouldn't put a heavy hand on her shoulder, holding her in place as he drilled into her head that she's a failure, a disappointment. That she has everything anyone could ever ask for and all she needs to do is actually apply herself and she couldn't even do that properly. That she's an ungrateful child, a privileged brat, a total waste.

It's funny. She sees her father maybe once every six months, but his voice is always in her head, nitpicking every single thing she does, every single thing about her.

Sakura hides the cursed test paper under her books before Ino arrives and slides into the booth next to her. It doesn't take long before Sasuke and Naruto are there as well, the latter with a tray full of carbohydrates and energy drinks.

It's not that Sakura is stupid−quite the opposite, she's smart. In fact, they hold these morning study sessions every day in the cafeteria so that she could help Ino with chemistry while Sasuke tutors Naruto in pre-calc. The problem was that she rarely came to class at all, and even rarer for her to come to class sober. And at this point, she's too far behind in the semester and none of her friends are in any of her classes so it's not like they can help her. It's not like they know she needs help.

None of her friends know that she spends her day at the downtown pub, sneaking out of campus as soon as Sasuke retreats from her after walking her to class.

Sakura is in the middle of explaining how to calculate concentrations when she sees movement from the corner of her eye and realizes that Sasuke has reached for her coffee cup. "Sasuke, no, that's−"

He takes a sip. His face gives nothing away as he tastes the bourbon mixed with the coffee. He doesn't acknowledge her transgression, doesn't even look at her. He just wordlessly slides his own cup towards her before he opens his notes and begins to highlight. But his shoulders are tense and his knuckles are white from how tightly he's holding the highlighter.

When she takes a guilty sip from her new cup, she tastes coffee. _Coffee_. Her best friend prefers tea in the morning.

/

When she's not drinking, she's running. And Ino thinks it's a healthy alternative, but it's because Ino doesn't know that Sakura runs on an empty stomach and pushes herself until her entire body is aching and heavy. At least this way, she's too tired to even _want _a drink.

She's limping when she enters her home and she almost considers crawling to her bedroom. She freezes when she passes Sasuke's room.

She could hear soft, breathy moans from the other side of the door. "Yeah…" She hears a sigh. For a second, she thinks that her best friend is just watching porn, but then she hears a giggle. And it sounds _real_. "Right there. Just like−that−!" Then she moans and Sakura is frozen in place, too shocked to move.

The moans get louder and louder, then she hears _him_, too. The sound is guttural, low and husky, and it's almost delicious to her ears. Masochistically, she wonders what he's doing to her and what _she's _doing to _him_. He must be good in bed, if the woman's moans are any indication. How she cried his name like it's the only word she's ever known.

Sakura doesn't realize she's crying until she feels the wetness in her cheeks, and that's all it takes to break her out of her thoughts. She runs to her room and locks it behind her. She ducks under her covers like the devil is after her when she starts hearing Sasuke's headboard rhythmically banging against her own wall.

She doesn't know why she's crying or why her chest hurts or why she suddenly feels like she's suffocating. _She _told _him _to get laid, and he's finally getting some. She should be happy for him, or at least happy that he listened to her because god knows she fails to listen to him.

She wipes her tears hastily and comes out from under her sheets for air. She stinks of sweat from her run and she needs to take a shower. But before she gathers her things, she picks up her phone and calls Ino.

Through the banging and the groans and the moans, she says, "Hey, do you wanna go out tonight? I won't drink too much, I promise."

/

One day, Sakura comes home to what sounds like a woman being murdered in Sasuke's bedroom. Only she's not being murdered, she's just getting dicked down real good.

One day, Sakura comes home to Sasuke making out with a redhead on their living room couch. Something ugly unfurled in the pit of her stomach. She doesn't want this; she doesn't want a face to match the voice, a name to match the face. But she has her legs wrapped around his waist and they both jump slightly when they notice the scared little pink-haired girl standing a little to their left.

In a second, the redhead is off of him and she's up on her feet. He clears his throat and looks up at the women awkwardly. "Sakura, this is Karin. Karin, my roommate Sakura."

Sakura mutters a meek hello before scurrying to her room like a petrified mouse.

One day, Sakura doesn't come home at all.

/

Hidan isn't a stranger. Hidan is a pretty boy with a filthy mouth and a big neon sign on his forehead that read Bad News.

Hidan has yellow tape all over his body that read Caution, courtesy of Sasuke after she came over to the Uchiha manor one night high as a kite, telling his entire family that she loved them and, most of all, him. They had been in high school then; she was sixteen and Hidan was twenty-one.

And maybe it's the redhead who has Sasuke's tongue shoved so far down her throat, or the warning letter that the university had sent her that morning, or her father's elusive approval, or maybe it's the fore-fucking-boding future that she doesn't know what to do about because she. is. so. fucked. up.

Or maybe it's a, b, c, _and _d that's pushed her to ignore the warning signs all around Hidan.

She coaxes the little white pill on his tongue into her own mouth. And when he pounds her into his mattress in his dingy apartment that she has always hated, she feels like there is absolutely nothing that could go wrong. It's the happiest she's been in years.

/

Sasuke thinks that Karin is pretty, as he watches her leave his bed to take a shower, exiting his room completely in the nude. He would even go so far as to say that she's beautiful.

And yet, it's not her he sees when he's inside her. It's not her voice he hears when she's moaning his name in his ears. It's not her that he wants. But who he wants, who he needs, who he loves, who he would go to the ends of the earth for… he's not what she needs.

His phone buzzes on the bedside table and he groans as he reaches for it. It's an unknown number.

And as if she knows she's on his mind, she speaks. "Sasuke-kun…"

"Sakura, where's your phone?"

"Um, I don't know…" She sounds so small, so terrified, like she's close to tears and he could just see her fidgeting and bouncing on the balls of her feet the way she does when she's trying not to cry. "Can you come and pick me up?"

He's out of bed before she even says it, pulling on his underwear and his pants and shrugging on the first shirt he sees on his cluttered floor. "Where are you?"

He listens to the poor girl pull away from the phone for a second to ask the nearest person where she is. His heart stutters in his chest. She's in a little emergency room right on the other end of the city.

/

Sasuke is out of the car before the wheels stop rolling. Sakura pushes off the wall she's been leaning against and meets him halfway as he runs towards her. His eyes are wild as he looks her over and she almost grimaces because she's not really a pretty thing to see at 7am on a Saturday morning. She's sure that she smells like vomit and sweat, and her dress smells like the booze she'd accidentally spilled on herself, not to mention her hair−there are so many knots in her hair and it smells like weed, like she's been growing hemp in there. God, she hopes she doesn't smell like Hidan.

"I fucked up." Tears prickle at the corner of her eyes.

She expects him to shout in her face, to berate her, to assault her with a barrage of questions on why she's in a hospital or what drugs she'd used, but nothing comes. Instead, she feels herself get engulfed in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry," he says, even though he has nothing to be sorry for. The way his voice cracks makes the tears spill from her eyes and she buries her face in his chest and clings to him like a lifeline.

All she could think about is how he smells like home and how she's never felt safe until she was in the circle of his arms.

/

The ride home is quiet. Sasuke doesn't ask her about the mixed drugs, or the mixed alcohol, or the alcohol mixed with drugs, not even the unprotected sex.

The ride home is quiet, except for the unrelenting ringing of his phone.

Sakura glances down and sees a name she's learned just a day ago. "I'm sorry," she says. "You probably had plans with your girlfriend." He just shrugs, mutes his phone and turns it over on his knee so that she doesn't see the name on the screen. "I mean, this is an emergency. You have a legitimate excuse, I'm sure she'll understand if you expl−"

"Sakura," he says in a low, warning tone. She ignores the shivers that run down her spine at the sound of her name. "We weren't that serious."

"But−"

"It's fine." He places his hand over hers. "You're the only one that matters right now."

With that, she finally allows her body to relax against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She's selfish, she knows, to want him all to herself when she knows she's no good for him. Even so, she couldn't help but feel relieved.


	2. one shot of sobriety

Sasuke is asleep when the clock strikes twelve and marks his 21st birthday. But that doesn't stop his best friend from slamming his bedroom door open and climbing onto his back, so he buries his face further into his pillow and grumbles a harsh 'go away' without moving his mouth much. But Sakura only wriggles on top of him until she's settled on the soft cushion that is his tush.

"Happy birthday!" she shouts loudly. He tells her that she's heavy and annoying but she only giggles and lowers herself to peck him on the cheek. This effectively stops him from making any more complaints. She rests her entire weight on him and he ignores how she's only wearing a thin cotton shirt and every bit of her is pressed against his naked back and how her long legs straddled his hips and how she breathes against his neck. He even ignores that she smells like tequila.

She murmurs a last lazy happy birthday before she falls asleep on top of him and the racing of his heart begins to slow as he also drifts back into his interrupted sleep.

/

"Are you _sure _you don't want to go?"

Sakura stirs in his bed, tangled up in his sheets. She watches him as he finishes buttoning up his black shirt. She nods her head yes.

Sasuke's family is a busy bunch. His dad is the chief of police, his mom is the CEO of the biggest security system company in the country, and his older brother is an award-winning journalist constantly travelling to uncover social injustices all around the globe. But every year on the 23rd of July, they would always find time for the youngest member of their family. Every year on the 23rd of July, they dropped everything to take Sasuke out to lunch, along with his best friend.

She moves to sit at the edge of the bed, watching him. He doesn't like watches but he takes the silver one his father had given him a year ago on this exact day and puts it on for show. He finishes and he turns to face her as if to ask for approval even though he never gives a shit what she has to say about how he dresses. He's black from head to toe like he's headed to a funeral, but he looks _good_. Delicious, is what she thinks, but she's not about to say that, so she opts for two thumbs up. "Say hi to everyone for me."

"You can say hi yourself if you just−"

"I can't."

"Why not."

His eyes bore into hers, and she realizes that he's worried. Even worse, he's _suspicious_. Sighing, she reaches for his hand and pulls him so that he's standing right before her. "I'm not gonna drink while you're out," she promises. "I'm not drinking at all today. That's my birthday gift to you."

He considers her a moment longer, before he nods and the tension leaves his shoulders. "Thank you." He bends down and presses a kiss to her cheek. It's chaste but firm and he walks away before she could recover. And when she hears the front door close, she falls back into his bed, curled up into a ball of heat that could rival the hottest star.

/

Naruto and Ino arrive just minutes after Sasuke's departure. The three of them immediately set to work, with Sakura sweeping the floors and dusting the shelves and doing the all-around cleaning while Naruto prepares the food and Ino decorates the entire place. They agreed on simpler decorations, nothing too crazy or flashy because it might scare the birthday boy away−or worse, he could ground Sakura.

She's in the middle of cleaning his room, fluffing his pillows and straightening his sheets when she sees something peeking from underneath his mattress. Her mind defaults to porn and it almost fills her with childish giddiness. She considers calling the other two but decides to take this moment for her own. She didn't think that Sasuke would keep his porn stash under his mattress like a normal person, she thought he would keep them in a safe manufactured by his family's own company like the paranoid that he was.

She plops down onto the bed and pulls the reading materials out from underneath her. Then she freezes when she doesn't see bared flesh and unrealistic body proportions. She feels her heart sink heavily into her stomach. Instead, she finds _Alcoholics Anonymous_, _How to Quit Drinking Without AA_, _Understanding Alcoholism_, _Controlling Alcohol_…

Self-help books to help _her_.

He cares about her; he always has and he always will, she's known that forever. He's been looking out for her since they were kids. But she had no idea that her problems have been spilling into his life like this. Dejected, she sighs and pushes the books back under the mattress.

So maybe he does have his porn locked in a safe.

/

Sasuke comes home to a big "SURPRISE!" that he barely reacts to.

The entire suite is bathed in a red glow, black and red balloons scattered all across the floor, and dozens of people he knew−he wouldn't go so far as to call them friends−stood in his living room, singing the happy birthday song out of tune. Naruto comes forward with a small, round cake in his hands with a sparkler right in the center of it.

He rolls his eyes but blows it out anyway, and he only finds the cheering that follows tolerable because his roommate has made her way to him and has wrapped her arms around his middle, clinging onto his side, smiling cheekily. "Happy birthday, Sasuke-kun," she says, close enough that she doesn't have to raise her voice to be heard.

She's wearing a red dress that hugs her figure tightly and exposes her sharp collar bones and the expanse of her legs. As good as she looks in it, he can't help but want to take it off her−but he's not allowed to think of such things, especially not about his best friend. "You're a pain in the ass, Haruno."

"You love me anyway."

She sticks her tongue out before she smiles sweetly, and he wonders if she knows just how much power she has over him. "Aa."

/

She _needs _it. Sakura without alcohol is a fish out of water, a dog without a bone, a flower without sunlight, Naruto without ramen. She's antsy and out of her element. She runs her fingers through her hair and rakes her fingernails on her arms, anything to keep her hands occupied. It doesn't help that everywhere she turns, she sees a red plastic cup−or worse, someone drinking straight from a bottle.

Kiba had spilled vodka on her arm earlier and she quickly washed it off before she could start lapping at it like a dog. Now, the boys have set up a makeshift beer pong table on the countertop and Ino wraps her fingers around her wrist to keep her from going towards it. Sky blue bores into seafoam green as Ino keeps her grounded. The blonde holds her face in her hands and presses her sticky, glossy lips on her cheeks and Sakura giggles, thankful to have this girl in her life.

And so she preoccupies herself with _him_, watching him from the corner of her eye to make sure that he's doing okay, that he's enjoying himself in his own party or at the very least he isn't annoyed and uncomfortable. She watches him from the corner of her eye only to find that he's already looking in their direction.

He is devilishly handsome, in all black and under this red light, gaze intense and smoldering. And when she looks at Ino, who puts manufactured-to-perfection Barbie dolls to shame, she thinks it's her that Sasuke has his hungry eyes on.

/

His best friend set him up. That much is clear when Sasuke receives a text from Sakura telling him that she'd left his birthday present in his room, only for him to find Ino on his bed, lying on her stomach with her feet in the air, as she flips through one of the self-help books he hid under his mattress.

She tosses the book to the floor when she sees him, and hastily shifts into an exaggerated seductive pose that bares her long legs and her slender neck. "I've been told that you're into me," she says, voice lithe with laughter and amusement.

He rolls his eyes. "Get lost."

Stupid. Annoying. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Sakura had come to the conclusion that he was remotely interested in Yamanaka, when she was practically just Naruto with tits and a bigger brain. But Ino's teasing smile turns sympathetic and she sits up in his bed and pats the spot next to her. She laces her fingers together on his shoulder and rests her chin on them, almost pouting as she starts. "You know she thinks you're too good for her, right?" He frowns, confused. "She sees herself as damaged goods and she thinks you'll never go for someone like her. So if you want her, if you _love _her, if you want to be with her−" she pulls away and turns his head with a sharp fingernail so that she's looking directly into his eyes, "you'll have to spell it out. In big, bold letters."

"But why would she think−"

"Because she's an alcoholic. She's dysfunctional and _you_… you have your shit together. And she thinks she's just going to drag you down with her."

He groans in exasperation, face falling into his hands. Stupid. Annoying. And, he couldn't help but think bitterly, this is all Kizashi Haruno's fault. How hard is it, really, to take time out of your day to give your daughter a call, to tell her that you love her? It frustrates Sasuke to no end, because how can you have Sakura Haruno in your life and not want to give her everything that you are? "I'll do it," he says with finality, rising to his feet. "I'll tell her."

He's just about to reach for the door knob when she calls him back and when he turns to her, she's waving a gold foil packet in the air. "I have a _bigger_ present outside, but I think you'd appreciate this one more."

/

He finds her just outside their front door, pacing up and down the empty hallway. Her eyes are glassy and her arms are streaked with red lines from where she's been scratching herself. She's going through withdrawals, he realizes. She stops abruptly when she sees him and her green eyes widen. "What are you _doing _out here? Ino's waiting for you!" She almost looks angry and he glares at her. He stalks towards her and grabs both of her elbows, running his hands up and down her forearms to soothe the angry skin.

Out here, it's quiet. Out here, the heavy bass that rocked the entire suite is just a quiet thump on the walls, almost mimicking the beating in his chest. "Why did you try to set me up with Ino?" He doesn't stop what he's doing and he never lifts his eyes from her arms to look at her, so he doesn't see the way her eyes grow glassier.

"Oh come on." She rolls her eyes and blinks the tears away, unable to wipe at them. "I saw you checking her out. You never took your eyes off her the entire night."

"You two have been inseparable all night."

She scoffs. "Well, I'm sorry for cockblocking−"

Slowly, his hands stop moving and he just holds her wrists loosely between them. "Has it occurred to you that maybe she wasn't the one I was looking at?"

"I haven't been drinking all night. You don't have to watch me all the time."

He smirks and finally meets her eyes. He tugs her forward and her breath catches in her throat as she bumps into his chest, green eyes wide as she looks up at him. "That's not the only reason I watch you, Sakura."

/

It overwhelms her, all of it. When he slants his mouth over hers, she comes alive and alight with fire. When he slams her against the wall and her lips part in a gasp and he kisses her deeper, twining his tongue with hers, she melts against him. The pulsing of the wall underneath her and the hardness between his legs against her lower stomach drives her mad. His mouth leaves hers to trail kisses down the column of her throat to collarbones, and she tugs at his hair.

"Your room or mine?" she rasps into his ear.

/

He takes her clothes off and he drinks her in and he tells her she's beautiful. And it's a sentiment she's heard many times before. It's a well-rehearsed line by boys who want something−just that one thing−from her. But when Sasuke says it, she believes it. She _feels_ it. She feels beautiful. Untouched, unsullied. And it's a real enough feeling that she could pretend, even for a moment, that she deserves someone like him−that she deserves _him_.

"Are you alright?" Sasuke asks when she makes a small squeaking sound when he rolled a pert nipple between his fingers while he fondled her breast. He looks at her with so much concern that she almost wants to cry because no one's ever looked at her like that and cared about her well-being like he does. "We can stop."

"No!" she says almost too quickly, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. Unsure and insecure, she continues, "No, I just… I've never done this sober and I… I'm embarrassed."

A corner of his mouth tilts upward, but it's too soft to be one of his signature smirks. He sifts his fingers through her hair and presses his lips to her forehead. "What do you want?"

She rolls her eyes. "It's your birthday. What do _you _want?"

There's a shift in his eyes and if the way he looked at her just moments ago was heated, then now it's scalding. His gaze falls over her like an oil spill and she's seconds away from combusting. "I want you…" he starts, his voice deep and husky. The sound alone makes her lower stomach tingle and the spot between her legs throb with need. His nose skims the side of her throat and his hot breath against her skin makes her shiver. Then he's close enough that she could feel the ghost of his lips over hers without touching, his eyes boring deep into hers. "... to take me as deep inside of you as you can. I want to fuck you slow until you're writhing underneath me and _then _I'm going to drive into you hard and fast and you'll come with every thrust." She lets out a shaky breath as he readjusts between her legs and she could feel his hardness right on her thigh. Then his smirk is back and she thinks she could come from this alone. "Is that okay with you?"

She nods her head wildly and he starts moving down her body, trailing kisses from her jaws to her neck to her collar bones. She tugs at his hair and pulls him up to her just as he kisses down her stomach. "No. No more waiting. I need you now."

He laces their fingers together as he guides himself to her sex, sliding into her with ease. He sinks into her inch by inch, and the way he stretches her and fills her slowly while his tongue slides against hers makes her toes curl and her back arch, pressing her chest flush against his. Then he pulls out of her completely and she doesn't even have the chance to whine at the feeling of emptiness before he slams his hips into hers sharply. She gasps at the sudden fullness, but it's a welcome intrusion.

Then he's barely pulling out of her, just moves his hips forward to reach deeper and deeper into her, until her green eyes are rolling to the back of her head and she squeezes him tighter. He moans, and it's absolute music to her ears, and bows into her neck at the sensation. He bites into the soft skin, enough to sting and amplify the pleasure he's giving her.

It almost terrifies her, as she holds onto him tightly, nails digging into his back as he starts slamming into her hard and fast like he promised, how he reduces her into this thing that moans and screams and _wantswantswants _and _begs _for it. It terrifies her how good it feels to have him inside her and on her and all over her… like he's another thing she's going to be hooked on.

/

They are fourteen and stupid. Sakura has a boy she likes but she insists that he's _not a boy, Genma is a man_. Genma is cool, Genma is smart, Genma is mature, Genma is everything the pink-haired lady wants and that's why it all had to be perfect. And what makes perfect? Practice.

She pulls away from Sasuke, green eyes wide and critical. She shakes her head in disapproval before cupping his face in her hands and running her thumb over his lower lip. "You're too stiff, Sasuke-kun," she says quietly, eyes intent on his mouth. "Soften your jaw. And open your mouth like you _want _to be kissed."

So Sasuke does as he's told and relaxes his jaw, parting his lips ever so slightly. She places her hand over his eyes because he refuses to close them and when she kisses him again, it's better than their first two tries. Her lips are soft against his and he could taste the cherry of her lip balm. And when he feels her tongue prod at his mouth, he parts them and welcomes her in. Soon enough, her hand is off his closed eyes and she wraps her arms around his neck. Then she's on his lap and she continues kissing him and he continues kissing back. She's making small sounds and he swallows them all, and it's only when his arms go around her waist and pulls her even closer that it all ends abruptly.

She blinks once, twice, then blushes furiously. "Thanks for your help, Sasuke-kun!" She quickly gets off his lap, gathers her things, and leaves.

But at the end of the night, she's back in his room. They lie on his bed, side by side and untouching. She lies on her side and he watches the ceiling, unable to look at her because he can't keep his eyes off of her mouth anymore. "How was it?" he asks, feigning indifference. But inside, he burns. Inside, he's angry.

"I hated it."

She tells him about Genma again, but now Genma is stupid and disgusting and he's not cool because he makes her feel wrong and dirty. When Genma kissed her, he kissed her hard and pressed his entire body down on her, and it felt suffocating so she slapped him and told him to drive her back home.

"Sasuke…" she calls out, and the quiet fragility in her voice makes him look at her. She tugs at his shirt and now he burns in a different way. "I don't hate it… when it's you…"

/

Sex has never been this good for her. When he'd said he was going to make her come with every thrust, he really made good on his promise. Sakura's entire body still tingles in the aftermath, and she's sore and sensitive, but somehow she's still aching for _more_. She almost fails to reconcile this Sasuke with the boy she'd lost her virginity to when they were fourteen. They'd been messy and clueless then, but they are better now. So. Much. Better.

Slowly, as her breathing begins to even out and her heartbeat slows to normal and she's once again aware of the world outside of these four walls, she comes down from her high.

"How are you feeling?" Sasuke asks, his knuckles skimming her arm gently.

She freezes for a split second before her mind goes haywire. She sits up, holding the sheets to her chest, and looks down at him with big, panicked eyes. "What just happened? What have we done? Friends don't do that, Sasuke-kun, I−"

Tears threaten to spill from her eyes and Sasuke, who has made it his life's mission to keep her from falling apart, is next to her in a second, telling her to calm down and reminding her that everything's okay. He cups her cheek in his hand and holds her so delicately that it scares her even more. And when she struggles, because she can't take it, she can't take _this_−this unbridled affection from this man who deserves better−he runs his fingers through her hair and pulls her against him. And quietly, he murmurs against her forehead, "I haven't wanted to be just friends for a long time now, Sakura."

Her face twists with something akin to anguish. "You can't possibly… Sasuke, _you_, of all people, _know_."

"Know what, exactly?"

"How big of a mess I am! How _dirty_ I am! How I'm so irredeemably fucked up!"

And she's crying now and she's pounding against his chest, but he's cupping her face in both of his hands and whispering sweet nothings in her ear while he wipes her tears away as they come, kissing her eyelids. And he tells her she's beautiful and that she's strong and that she's the bravest person that he knows and that he _loves _her. She stops struggling at that, and just falls against him and lets him hold her as she sobs.

/

They make love one more time. She rides him and claws at his skin and marks him with bruises all over in the shape of her mouth. When she's done, she lies with her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest, tracing invisible patterns right on top of the rapid beating of his heart. She's sweaty and her hair is a mess and there's a faint black streak running down her cheeks, and she's the most beautiful damned thing he's ever laid his eyes on.

"I'll do better," she murmurs against his neck. "For you."

He wants to say _no, you should do it for yourself_, but the words are lost when she reaches between his legs again, and not much is said between them for the rest of the night.


	3. drunk in love

Sakura comes clean about skipping class for most of the semester, and her friends−and her new boyfriend−help her out as much as they could. Naruto and Ino collect notes from her classmates, while Sasuke emails her professors to ask for their assistance and consideration, all of which have yet to reply. In the meantime, Sakura absorbs a whole semester’s worth of information in two weeks in preparation for finals.

It’s futile, she knows. There’s no way she could pass the semester simply by doing well on her finals. She smiles at Naruto when he insists that she could make it, with a big grin and his signature “Believe it!”, but she _ knows _.

She’s hopeless by now and their two blonde friends are gone and Sasuke is still poring over his own study materials. They’re sitting on their living room floor with piles of paper and open textbooks all over their low coffee table, the two of them sharing one bottle of mule to get them through the night. Sakura holds it close, with the rim pressed to her lower lip as she watches Sasuke line his book with neon then type his notes into his laptop with quick fingers. He’s wearing his reading glasses and the spikes of his hair are long enough that he has to tie them in a little ponytail, and she can’t help but daydream about pulling hard on that ponytail while he goes down on her right on the table−

“Pay attention to your notes, not to me, Sa-ku-ra.”

The teasing lilt to his voice makes her cheeks heat up and she lets go of the bottle she’s been holding to flip through the pages of her book, pouting and grumbling as she goes. And when she finds herself reading the same sentence five times, she reaches out for the bottle once more. She looks up at the scraping sound as he slides the bottle across the table far from her reach. 

“Enough,” he says sternly, without looking away from his work. “I’ve had one sip and you’ve finished half the bottle.”

She pouts even though he’s not looking. “Hard-ass.”

“What was that?”

“I said I love you,” she quickly amends, blushing furiously.

/

Sakura swallows thickly as Sasuke starts lining her little friends along the kitchen counter−from expensive jager to cheap vodka, fat bottles of tequila and gin…

There’s not much to do now that school is out of session for the winter. Sasuke lazes around and Sakura walks around their apartment in oversized sweaters that swallow her up. They play video games and dissect her alcoholism like a math problem and watch cheesy Christmas rom coms and make out for hours on end and fuck on every available surface, and everything’s _ fine _.

Sakura is better in the days, weeks, months after Sasuke’s 21st birthday. She knits when she’s bored and she pesters him for mind-numbing chess matches, anything to keep herself busy, anything to keep herself from wanting a drink. 

And they agree that quitting cold turkey is not the solution, so he starts with limiting her. First, she starts drinking less and far between. Now, he’s throwing out all the hard liquor she’s stashed all over their apartment so that she’s left with only beer and alcopop, light drinks to get her through the day. 

And it’s fine, he thinks. Even if she looks at him like he’s murdering puppies right in front of her eyes when he starts draining bottles in the sink. 

/

She looks up at him with glazed eyes and without having to say anything, he knows what she wants. Sasuke flips her over onto her stomach and slides a pillow underneath her to lift her hips as he straddles her thighs. He taps his dick against her wet cunt before entering her swiftly and deeply. She makes a sound that’s caught between a sharp gasp and a moan.

He fucks her, driving into her savagely and relentlessly. He watches her ass bounce against his hips, listens to the resounding slaps of skin on skin, before he braces his arms on either side of her, caging her in. She cries his name as though in worship, her fingers digging into his wrists, pussy tightening deliciously around his cock. He fucks her stupid and she screams herself hoarse.

Sleep doesn’t come easy to Sakura anymore. She tosses and turns in her sleep and even thrashes in bed. Sometimes she wakes in a cold sweat and sometimes he wakes to find her pacing around the room in the middle of the night, frazzled. And Sasuke helps in the only way he knows how to: he sinks into her and drills into her hard and fast and he lets her use him however she wants. Until she’s too spent to move, too spent to think, too spent to crave anything else. 

And it’s only after she cums for the third time and she finally succumbs to exhaustion, when she’s fast asleep in the crook of his arm and he’s calmed down and come down from his own high, that the feeling starts to sink in. But this is fine, he insists. Sakura is doing great. Sakura isn’t drinking. 

Sasuke falls asleep before he could dwell on the _ wrong _feeling in his gut. 

/

Ino gets her very own apartment in the art district, an early Christmas present from her father. And so they spend Christmas at her housewarming party. 

It’s a studio on the fourth floor, nothing luxurious like the penthouse Sakura and Sasuke share. But where the two of them watch the city like a thousand shining stars at their feet, the floor-to-ceiling windows in Ino’s apartment make her feel one with the city. She is immersed in graffiti and giant colorful murals, immersed in color and life. 

But even here, surrounded by the city in a room full of people, Sakura’s eyes seek out only one person. There’s wine going around−it’s not Ino’s fault, of course; it had simply slipped her father’s mind that his daughter’s best friend is a recovering alcoholic−and she needs him as a tether. Her feet are moving towards him before she even sees him, as if she’s attracted to him like a magnet, like his presence alone beckons her. 

Sasuke turns to her with a question in his eyes and she takes his hand and kisses him under a mistletoe they pass by before she pulls him into the first empty closet she finds.

/

It happens a week after New Year’s and a week before the Spring semester begins. Sasuke’s out, driving his brother around to run errands because Itachi had totaled his car after a boys’ night out gone wrong with his high school friends. Sasuke’s out and Sakura picks up the white envelope with their university’s seal on it. 

She knows what it is before she even picks it up, knows what it is before she even tears the corner open and skims the letter. 

It’s over. She’s been expelled. The University of Konoha wouldn’t be accepting her for the coming semester. And hours seem to pass as she just stands there, in the middle of her living room, holding the letter so tightly that the paper is crumpled at the edges.

Faces flash in her mind, the people that she’s disappointed−her father, who could add this to the growing list of her failures, Naruto and Ino, who bent over backwards just to help her do well in the final stretch of the semester, and most of all, Sasuke. The person who has stood by her from the very beginning, the one who’s never given up on her, the one who still believes in her even though she’s let him down time and time again. 

She realizes that her hands are shaking, that her cheeks are wet with tears, that there’s a growing lump in her throat. A lump that needs to be washed down with something _ strong _.

Sakura tears the letter apart. She searches for her wallet then grabs her keys. _ Just one drink _, she tells herself. Just one drink to calm her nerves. Just one drink couldn’t hurt.

/

This is what Sasuke comes home to, two hours later: pastel pink running shoes thrown haphazardly by the genkan, torn pieces of paper in the living room, two bottles of Jack on the kitchen counter, one of which is empty, and Sakura slumped on the bathroom floor with her head resting against the toilet bowl. And the scene hits him hard. He falls back against the doorframe and slides down to the floor, knees weak.

Sasuke stares at her in disbelief and she stares back at him blankly. She’s drunk. For the first time in months, and so soon into the new year. She’s drunk and her eyes are empty and the bathroom reeks of something toxic and the only thing he thinks is that he’s_ not enough _, he never was and he might never be. 

He comes home from babysitting his older brother to taking care of his struggling girlfriend. He inhales sharply and runs a frustrated hand over his face until he’s pulling at his own hair. 

Her head lolls back and she stares up at the ceiling. “Let’s break up.”

He glares at her. “Fuck no.” 

She shakes her head in silent, bitter laughter. He sees tears at the corners of her unfocused eyes. “Why not?” she bites out. “I told you, from the very start, there’s no reason for you to love me! How could you even still want to be with me? My own father wants nothing to do with me and the University’s closed its doors on me! Why are you−” her voice cracks, “so _ persistent _?” 

So that’s what this is about. He shakes his head, he should have known. There was no way she could have salvaged her grades solely by doing well on her finals, especially not when he’s learned that she’s been maintaining a one-point-something GPA for two years now and they’ve been sending her warning letters that she’s been keeping from him. And yet, he’s held out hope. For her. As always. 

_ Because I love you _, he thinks but doesn’t say. Instead, he picks himself up then he picks her up and drops her unceremoniously into the tub. He strips her and he washes her and she stays still like a ragdoll, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. This might be the worst he’s seen her. 

/

They spend the rest of the day in her room. He makes love to her. He swallows her breathy moans and her soft whimpers, he twines their fingers together and looks deeply into her eyes, into her soul. It’s all so sweet and tender and so overwhelming that she cries, and he kisses her tears away. He comes with a low groan and he holds her tight as she trembles.

Then Sasuke rolls off of her with a weary sigh and a faraway look in his eyes, and she gets it. She understands that he’s tired, understands that it’s not easy to be there for her, to love _ all _of her. And yet, he doesn’t let go and she wonders if there is a masochist inside her lover. 

“I’m sorry,” Sakura murmurs. He squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s sick of hearing it but he threads his fingers through her hair and when he looks down at her, his dark eyes are a bottomless pit of sadness and hurt. 

He presses his mouth to her forehead. “I thought I could do it. I thought if I tried hard enough, I could help you. But this isn’t working, Sakura.” 

“Sasuke-kun−” she lifts her head and her protest dies in her throat as she sees the desperate plea plain on his face. Her mouth hangs open as she struggles to find words, the gravity of the situation weighing down on her all of a sudden. This is it. He’s not letting her get away with it anymore. She closes her eyes and a single tear rolls down her cheek. “I want to see dad first.”

/

Kizashi Haruno receives the two of them in his office on a Tuesday afternoon and he greets his daughter with a stiff embrace that leaves her cold. He tells them to sit with a stern voice and looks at them like he has things he’d rather be doing than wasting his time in conversation with his daughter and her boyfriend. Dejected, Sakura tries not to wilt like a forgotten flower. He shoots Sasuke a dirty look.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks her, eyes never leaving the boy next to her. 

Sasuke’s jaw clenches and Sakura sinks slightly into her seat, wanting to disappear, wanting to jump out of the sixteenth floor window. “No, dad. I, uh…” she swallows thickly. “I’m sick.” 

He finally looks at her. Looks at her long and hard, eyes devoid of concern. “You look well,” he says with a shrug, like they are wasting his time. And she wants to laugh because she looks like utter shit, like she’s been through hell and back which is exactly how she feels.

“I’m not well,” she says, almost desperately. “I’m going to rehab, so… you might not see me for a while.” Not like he sees her at all. When he only looks at her incredulously, she adds, “I drink, dad.”

At that, he barks with laughter and she winces. “And? Everyone drinks, Sakura. You’re twenty-one, you _ should _be drinking!”

She squeezes her eyes shut. This is the last thing she needs to hear right now and Sasuke looks like he’s about to speak up but she places her hand on top of his, stopping him. Her throat tightens and when she speaks, her voice cracks. “I black out a lot.”

“Drink responsibly then−”

“I’ve been drinking since I was thirteen. I’ve woken up in strange places with no recollection of how I got there,” she continues, as if in confession, voice thick with tears she’s holding in. “I’ve done drugs. I’ve gone home with complete strangers. I was hospitalized twice in high school because of alcohol poisoning−but you didn’t know that, did you? I _ need _help, dad.” 

She squeezes Sasuke’s hand as Kizashi continues saying all the wrong things. He sounds angry as he tells her that she doesn’t need help, doesn’t need rehab, voice close to a shout in his soundproof office. Then he turns his attention to Sasuke again, pointing at him with an accusing finger. “Have you been putting these ideas in my daughter’s head, Sasuke? Just because you don’t know how to take care of her?” 

Sasuke snaps and he rises to his feet so abruptly that the armchair he’s in falls back. His fist shakes at his side with anger and Kizashi’s booming voice commands him to sit down. But before her tears start to fall and before he does something regrettable, Sakura stands up. She steels herself as she meets her father’s eyes, holding his gaze as she takes Sasuke’s fist in her hands. “It was never Sasuke’s job to take care of me,” she says, voice hard. “It’s yours. _ Dad _.” 

/ 

They don’t speak during the car ride home or the elevator ride up to the penthouse. Sakura holds herself together and when Sasuke reaches out to touch her, she pulls away like the slightest contact would shatter her. She stalks past him when he unlocks their front door and makes a beeline for her room as her throat starts to tighten and breathing becomes harder. Her knees give in and she sinks to her bedroom floor. It’s almost painful to cry, to breathe, as her sobs rip through her. 

She yanks at the collar of her dress until the zipper on her back breaks and she struggles out of the fabric. She’s in the middle of clawing her way out of her clothes when Sasuke drops next to her. He helps her out of the damned thing, stripping her down to her underwear before engulfing her in his arms. He whispers soothingly in her ear and rocks her back and forth. And when she’s cried herself hoarse, he tucks her into bed and follows her under the covers.

It doesn’t take long until Ino and Naruto arrive. Sakura doesn’t even know when Sasuke called them, but they are here and their blue eyes soften at the sight of her curled up against him. Ino lies down next to them, resting her head on Sakura’s shoulder as she holds her from behind. Then Naruto comes up from behind her and extends his arm over the three of them. 

Sakura buries her face further into Sasuke’s chest as tears begin to fall again. Her body begins to tremble and their arms tighten around her. She thinks of how Kizashi didn’t even call out to her when she turned her back on him, didn’t even stop her from leaving his office. And it dawns on her now that even though she did not have her father all these years, she’s always had her family.

/

It’s Ino who takes care of everything. She takes charge of the situation, makes the calls to doctors, researches the best rehab facilities in the country, and instructs Naruto to keep Sasuke out of it. He and Sakura are codependent, she keeps saying, and they’ll just keep running in circles if she left this all to the two of them. 

Ino finds a doctor and a facility in a matter of four days. She schedules everything and when it’s time to go, it’s her who drives Sakura away. She doesn’t tell Sasuke where she’s going, doesn’t even tell Naruto because she doesn’t trust him to keep it from his best friend. Sasuke hates that she’s right.

It’s anticlimactic. There’s no rain when they say goodbye, there are no dramatic professions of love, there are no promises of waiting or whatever the fuck. They’re standing in the lobby, Sakura with a suitcase at her side like she’s just going on a little vacation and Sasuke with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie because he doesn’t trust himself not to hold onto her and never let go.

“I’m gonna miss you,” she says. 

“Aa,” he responds and she rolls her eyes. 

She playfully punches him on the arm. “Come on,” she chuckles, even though her eyes are glassy and her voice comes out thick. “Not even a goodbye hug?” 

Sasuke squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to look too pained. He reaches out and cups the nape of her neck, pulling her close until his lips are pressed firmly against her forehead. His eyes slip shut and he breathes her in, as if he could absorb parts of her for him to keep at all times. “I’ll see you soon.” 

As she drives Sakura away from all she’s ever known, Ino assures her that the time spent apart will do the two of them good.

/

The rehab facility is homey enough. But Sakura is a ghost in this place, a weightless entity just floating by. Aware and existent, but less than alive. She’s not Sakura Haruno here. It’s as if she’s denounced her identity the moment they stripped and searched her the first day. The tall floor-to-ceiling windows look out to a lush green garden, it doesn’t show her the rest of the city like the windows back home. There’s no Sasuke here, no Ino, no Naruto. Her best friend is librium.

The detox facility is her home for her first five days. She makes small talk with the other patients, they eat their meals together, they go to group together, but she doesn’t pay enough attention to remember their names or their stories. This would be an emotional roller coaster, really, if only she’s able to feel anything. 

Sakura gives them what they want. She forces herself to look alive enough, functional enough, when they need her to be. She doesn’t let them into her head, where she’s plotting her escape, where she feels helpless, where she’s in a perpetual breakdown that her face doesn’t show. 

She is only allowed a few minutes to call home. She calls Ino the most and her therapist restricts her from making any contact with Sasuke, says that he is her crutch.

Her roommate frowns at her when she slips into her own bed in a hoodie that’s too big on her for the seventh time that week. Sakura just turns her back on her and lies on her side, and drowns herself in Sasuke’s scent.

83 more days. 

/

Sasuke does better without her than he expects, he tells himself.

It’s not like in the movies. Where she leaves him and he turns into a slob and the apartment they once shared turns into a pig sty. No, Sasuke and Sakura’s suite remains immaculate. The floor-to-ceiling windows are crystal clear, the tabletops spotless, not a speck of dust in sight. Sasuke holds himself together well without her.

He’s in the middle of organizing the books in the living room bookshelf when he hears the front door open. He whips around, expecting to see her standing there, beaming up at him. But instead, he sees a beautiful woman with long black hair in a crisp suit. He tries not to look so disappointed and Mikoto Uchiha looks at him sympathetically. 

“Mom,” he breathes out and walks into her open arms. 

He fusses over her before she could fuss over him. He tells her to sit, takes her jacket off of her shoulders and her purse out of her hand, and busies himself in the kitchen. Anything not to be stared at for too long by this woman he could never hide anything from. 

But he has to face her eventually. He takes a deep breath as he brings her a cup of chamomile tea. She takes it from him and sets it down on the table before reaching out to hold both of his hands in hers and pulls him down next to her. 

Mikoto sighs sadly as she looks at his son’s face, looks into his eyes. She cups his face and holds him gently. “How are you, Sasuke?” He opens his mouth as if to say he’s fine but the words die in his throat when she gives him a knowing look. 

They are silent for a long moment until he falls forward and she wraps her arms around him, holding him tight as sobs he’s held in for so long rip through him like a storm. He clings to her. He is not fine, hasn’t been in a long time. In his mother’s arms, he is finally allowed to be the scared little boy he’s felt like for the past few years.

/

She warms to them after two weeks. In front of all these people, she admits that she’s an alcoholic. Little by little, she airs out her dirty laundry and she gets used to the big-eyed stares after three weeks. Dr. Senju would only give her a hard stare when she thinks Sakura is feeding her what she wants to hear, but as the girl finally speaks her truth, Tsunade’s brown eyes soften and her red lips turn up at the corners with pride. 

“I’m an alcoholic.”

She said those three words on her first day and she’s been saying them every day since. 

Sakura hits her highs and lows in this place. Some days, she thinks she’s better. She thinks she’s closer to coming home to her makeshift family. She makes friends, she remembers their names and their stories like Lee and his adderall addiction, Temari who is a sex addict, and Tenten who is also an alcoholic among other things. The three of them make it all bearable for her. 

But some days are worse than others. Some days, people leave. Some days, she’s crippled with helplessness, with an overwhelming sadness, with a desperation to get out and go home. And when they give her medication to make these feelings go away, she goes back to being numb. At this point, she’s not sure whether it’s better to feel every emotion all at once or none at all. 

/

They’re in group but she doesn’t speak. None of them speak. For once, it’s Tsunade who speaks, who shares, and they’re the ones looking at her with eyes wide in wonder, in sympathy, in inspiration. And Sakura is absorbed by every word the older woman utters. 

Tsunade Senju is not an unknown name. She is a woman who built her career from the ground up and she’s a legend in the world of science, in the field of medicine. Sakura would think that a woman of such caliber would’ve had her shit together to be able to come this far. But she’s wrong. 

Tsunade Senju was in a room just like this, once upon a time, and not as a therapist. But as an addict, an alcoholic, a gambler. She had been one of them, all of them, and look at her now. 

“This is just a hurdle,” she says and there is such strength in her voice, in her eyes, in the way she holds herself. “This doesn’t define you. You still have so much more ahead of you.” 

That night, Sakura still wears Sasuke’s hoodie to bed. It doesn’t smell like him anymore, but she still finds herself drifting to sleep easily.

/

Recovery isn’t easy. Healing isn’t easy. Sakura spends half a year in what’s supposed to be a 90-day program. Still, she conquers. She doesn’t tell anyone when she finishes the program, doesn’t even ask Ino to take the 12-hour drive to pick her up. She comes home when Sasuke doesn’t expect her to. Naturally, he’s not there. 

The penthouse is the same as it’s always been, as if time is suspended in this place. Immediately, she’s hit with the memory of the last time she was here−scared, hopeless, helpless, weak… everything she no longer is. And she wants to see _ him _ , wants to show him this version of her, the version of her that he deserves, the version of her that they _ all _deserve. 

/

Sasuke comes home and stops dead in his tracks. He almost thinks he’s dreaming when he finds pastel pink running shoes at the genkan and an unattended suitcase in the living room. The world comes to a halt when her bedroom door opens and she freezes when she sees him, too. Her mouth falls open slightly and she stares at him with wide green eyes. They stare at each other for a long time, as if in disbelief. For a moment, he thinks he’s hallucinating. That he has been missing her to the point of madness.

This is not the reunion he’s pictured countless of times in his head. Her hair is still wet from the shower she just took and she’s wearing a baggy white shirt and gray sweats. She looks different; her hair is longer and her cheeks are rounder and her skin is glowing and she looks _ alive _. She looks… like a pipe dream.

His keys drop with a loud clang and his phone with a heavier thud. He crosses the room in long strides until she’s in his arms. Sasuke holds her so tight that he’s afraid he’s going to break her bones but she only buries her face in his chest and holds him just as tightly. He buries his face in her neck and breathes her in. She’s here, he thinks, as his embrace grows tighter around her. She’s here. She’s real. 

He sighs, eyes slipping shut. He rests his forehead against hers. “I was so scared… that I would never be enough for you…” 

She pulls away from him and when he opens his eyes, he finds her frowning at him incredulously. “Sasuke-kun,” she shakes her head in disbelief. Then she cups his face in her hands and stares intently into his eyes. “You are _ more _ than I could ever ask for. This… was something that _ I _ had to do. There was nothing you could have done if I wasn’t willing to help myself! Please don’t ever think that again.”

There are tears rolling down her cheeks but he doesn’t realize that he’s crying as well until she swipes her thumbs gently at the corners of his eyes. “I’m back,” she sighs.

He holds her to him again. “Welcome home.”

/

It’s been a week but it still feels strange to come home to her. Every time he sees her, it’s like he’s seeing her for the first time all over again. There’s a tight, warm feeling in his chest that makes him feel like he’s about to burst and he feels it so strongly he almost aches. Today, he finds her sitting on the floor of their living room with a laptop between her legs and a tablet on one side of her and several medical textbooks on the other. 

He sits on the couch behind her and she climbs up next to him. She and Ino have been researching schools lately and now she shows him her list. She wants to be a doctor, she says. There’s a shine in her eyes that he hasn’t seen there since they were ten; it’s hopeful and determined and passionate. He loves that look on her. 

Absentmindedly, Sasuke reaches out and brushes his knuckles against her cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. 

Her cheeks turn rosy and she smiles bashfully. She covers his hand with hers and leans further into his touch. “I love you,” Sakura says quietly. She slips her fingers between his and turns her cheek to kiss his palm. “I don’t think I’ve said this enough, but… thank you. For everything. For loving me. For being my best friend.”

/

It’s not easy, almost nothing ever is. Sakura greets bartenders like old friends and avoids alcohol like an ex-lover, and sometimes Sasuke would catch her staring longingly at a bottle of whatever. But healing is not a straight line, it’s a long, arduous process. She picks herself up one piece at a time, she continues seeing Tsunade as a therapist, and she leaves room to forgive her father−not now, not soon, but someday. 

It’s not easy, but she’s getting there.

_ fin _. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy 2020, yall! i intended to update on new year’s but something came up and if you follow me on tumblr you know exactly what happened as i was writing this chapter. that being said, i want to thank all of you for reading, for leaving reviews, and for patiently waiting for this last chapter, and most of all, thanks to the people who patiently waited and didn’t demand for my return. 
> 
> i wish you all growth and healing, and may this year be kinder to you than the last.
> 
> much love, Y.


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